


lighten up buttercup, get a hobby

by liesmith



Category: NoPixel, no pixel
Genre: Gift Fic, M/M, Semi Public Stuff, good boys doing good boy things, im not really sure how to describe this, ziggy is hoe forever arc
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-06
Updated: 2020-04-06
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:34:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23513215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/liesmith/pseuds/liesmith
Summary: it's kind of fun getting fucked up at workorthis wasn't what ziggy planned.
Relationships: jackie snow/ziggy buggs
Comments: 4
Kudos: 15





	lighten up buttercup, get a hobby

He feels in his bones that it’s going to be one of those days.

Ziggy settles back into the seat of his truck, parked off to the side of the road. He’s just clocked on duty but already it feels too long, taking his sunglasses and propping his elbow up on the door to his truck, chin against his closed fist as he watches the cars roll by him in the early hours of the morning, that hour border until it’s morning and Ziggy has to deal with the day. He lids his eyes and fishes in his jacket’s front pocket for a smoke, pulling out the pack and tapping it into his hand, pulling a cigarette out and his lighter. He repockets both after lightning up, reaching up to tip his hat down a little to cover his eyes, taking an inhale of his cigarette.

With the radio turned down low, voices merely a faraway hum in his ear, Ziggy closes his eyes and leans his seat back, pressing his thighs together, and the soft vibration of the bullet vibe taped around him makes him sigh happy, arms crossed over his chest. He really, _really_ should be working, but fuck that. Raven and Snow are 10-41, which basically means all of MRPD is covered for now. They could lose Ziggy for a couple of hours. He fumbles as he slides his window down a little, flicking ashes off his cigarette as he hums to himself, idly rubbing his thighs together. The vibration is dull enough that it’s not distracting yet and really, that’s a good thing, but Ziggy still wants a little more. After a moment he tosses his cigarette out the window, letting a hand sit on top of his thigh. Touching himself right now would ruin the point of this game he has, but man is it tempting. Always is.

“Taking a nap?”

Ziggy lets out the most undignified shout, scrambling to sit up in his seat as his hat falls off, sunglasses drooping down his nose as he turns towards the offender, the soft face of Snow in his window, arm against the top of his truck and leaning down. He smiles, lifting his other hand and giving a little wave. Ziggy just pouts, laying a hand over his pounding heart and lifting his hat back up, sitting it delicately back on his head.

“That wasn’t nice.”

“Neither is sleeping on the job,” Snow pats the top of his truck, head shaking, “what’re you doing?”

Ziggy shifts slightly, hand sliding into his jacket’s pocket where the remote is. He shrugs, pressing the intensity up one with a soft sigh. Feels nice. “Resting my eyes, you know? Didn’t sleep well last night.”

“You never sleep well,” Snow points out, straightening his back and looking ahead, “you wanna ride together?”

“Is that smart? We’re kind of low,” Ziggy murmurs, turning the remote over in his hands as he thinks about it. Riding with Snow sounds awfully nice, but it would be shit if they lost one more cop on patrol, “maybe in an hour or two?”

Snow seems disappointed. At least, Ziggy thinks he is. “Holding you to your word, love.”

Ziggy laughs, looking away as a soft blush falls on his cheeks, nudging his sunglasses up the bridge of his nose. “I’d never let you down, Jackie.”

Snow pats the top of his car again before pulling away with a small wave, going to his cruiser parked behind his truck. Damn. Ziggy really should’ve seen him coming. Snow even had his fucking lights on. He just sighs a little and slumps down in his seat again, giving another wave as Snow passes by him, letting his hands drop to the steering wheel. His fingers drum for a moment before he sits straighter, throwing his car into drive and pulling out of his parking spot, taking a right and cruising slowly along the streets.

That just gets boring real fast. Raven’s idly chattering on the radio, filling the silence with something, and every so often Snow pipes up. Ziggy’s pretty sure at some points he’s talking too, but it’s hard to remember or pay attention. Time’s always seemed pretty fake to him and today isn’t any different. The vibrations against his half chub aren't helping either, though. Ziggy is quiet as he sits at a red light, trying to relieve some of the need, pressing his thighs together and giving a small rub. It’s enough to make him inhale sharply, grip his steering wheel a little harder, and almost zones out until a car behind him honks, impatiently waiting for him to go at the green light.

Oops.

He turns down another street and then another, taking the turn a little too sharp and hitting a sign with a grunt. Shit. Ziggy straightens his truck out and scoots it down a little further, sitting about a third down the street. Truck in park and his hand immediately goes into his pocket, pressing the vibration up another tick again. It’s steady now, still not enough to make him shake and slump in his seat, but the distraction is rising, and when he squeezes his thighs together… yeah, Ziggy leans back in his seat, letting out a soft, happy sort of whine. Yeah, that feels fucking good. A hand settles at his stomach, fingers itching so badly to touch himself, give a little more relief, but that’s still cheating, though.

“322, copy?”

Snow. “Yeah?”

“You could try to be professional.”

“Oh, shit. Yeah, right. 205, what’s your twenty, blah blah.”

“Come back to Mission Row.”

“Sounds lame,” Ziggy murmurs as he pulls out of the side street, glancing both ways quickly before pulling out onto the main road. He did promise Snow they’d ride together, but Ziggy can’t help the nagging in his mind that he might be in trouble. For what, he can’t tell you, but still. He could be in trouble. At least he’s close by; Ziggy slides effortlessly into a parking spot, trying not to ding the fire hydrant outside. He really can’t be walking into MRPD any worse then what he might be right now; Snow will just get worried. Would be even worse if Raven was there.

He cuts the engine and climbs out, hopping down and smoothing his shirt and jacket out a little, rumpled from his seat belt and slumping in the seat, and, well, not ironing his shirts anymore. He’s pretty sure he bled in this shirt a few nights ago, but eh. Ziggy hums as he climbs the steps two a time, waltzing through the door and taking his hat off, laying it over his chest as he finds Snow standing at the receptionist's desk, legs crossed at the ankle and leaning back, hands in the pockets to his own coat.

“About time.”

“Oh, shit, 205, I fuck up again? I asked what your twenty was, I don’t remember you saying ‘oh 322, come rescue me from Mission Row’.”

“Don’t be a shithead,” Snow’s smiling, pushing off the desk, “you promised me some patrol time, Ziggy.”

Ziggy bows, arm outstretched, before he straightens back up and plops his hat back on his head, his own smile happy and soft. “Aw, shit. With little ol’ me?”

“We’re taking my car.”

“Hell no, the truck is way cooler,” Ziggy argues, holding the door open as Snow steps out, following quickly after him, “you need help getting up into it, princess?”

“I’m regretting going on patrol with you.”

Ziggy laughs, giving Snow a wink and resisting the urge to reach up and ruffle his hair. “You’re hurting my feelings here, Jackie.”

“You existing hurts mine,” Snow murmurs, staring up at the truck and giving Ziggy a glare over the hood, “I hate this thing.”

“Not all of us are fancy Mustang boys,” Ziggy gives another wink before climbing into his truck, settling down and buckling up. Snow follows suit on his own side, leaning comfortably back into the passenger side seat. Ziggy takes a couple seconds to just admire Snow, eyes trailing over him before he clears his throat and looks back out the windshield of the truck, engine turning on as he pulls out of the parking spot and turns left at the station. The interaction almost made him forget about the continued vibration against him, trying to coax his half chub into fullness. He manages to ignore it the best he can for right now, fingers drumming on the steering wheel as he does what he does best; cruising around, trying to ignore crime.

Going to be a little harder with Snow at his side, but Ziggy’s okay with that.

He’s brought out of his thoughts by Snow, feeling only a bit embarrassed he half heard what the man said.

“... What?”

“We’ve gone around the taco shop several times. You okay there, Ziggy?”

Ziggy clears his throat, ignoring the burn in his cheeks. “Yeah, course. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“I can see your dick.”

Oh. “Shit.”

“You really daydreaming that hard?”

“Uh,” Ziggy laughs, voice cracking and nervous, “y-yea. Sure. Let’s go with that.”

“There’s more options?”

Shit. There goes his fucking mouth again. “... Uh, maybe.”

Ziggy’s pulled them off to the side of the road, fingers so tight around the steering wheel as he just looks at Snow out of the corner of his eye, noticing him just _staring_ back. Oh, fuck. He clears his throat, waving his hand quickly, as if to brush the conversation off. “Look, I don’t think thi-”

“I’m okay with more options.”

The words hit the tight ball of nerves in his belly and Ziggy just turns his head to stare at Snow, unsure of how to approach this. What does he even say? That Ziggy’s sitting here, vibe wrapped around his dick, thinking of Snow touching him, and that’s not cheating, if someone else slides warm fingers against him. “Do you really want to know?”

“Sure. Hit me.”

Ziggy laughs. What the fuck is this conversation right now? “I have a vibrator against me and when I fuck up, I turn it up. That’s it, Jackie. You know how fucking boring it is when we get on, there’s nothing to do.”

Snow seems like he’s trying to figure out what to say next, brows furrowed behind his sunglasses as he turns to face Ziggy easier. After a moment he cocks his head, glances between Ziggy’s legs, and then back up at his face. “Show me.”

“Isn’t this sexual harassment?” Ziggy questions, but his hands are still on his belt, undoing it and going to his zipper next. No fucking way is he going to pass this oppurtunity up; he’d be a fucking fool if he did, “like, I could totally sue your ass, right?”

“Show me your cock, Ziggy.”

Ziggy short circuits, hands tight in his slacks as he stares at Snow, mouth open. He fumbles as his dick supplies some blood back to his brain and then to his hands, folding down the front of his slacks, exposing the colorfully printed briefs underneath, cock strained against the fabric, a wet spot where his tip is pressed. Snow leans back against the door, arm against the dash and fingers pressed against his bottom lip, openly staring at Ziggy. The brunet burns under the look, wishing he pulled a little further into a side street or something, but the windows are dark enough.

Nobody would know, right?

Fuck. Ziggy was fucked, plain and simple.

“... How often do you do this?”

“I… I dunno. Maybe twice a week?”

“Damn,” Snow whistles and reaches with his other hand, fingers just curled at the edges of Ziggy’s slacks, tips just brushing against his briefs, “and what’s the point of this?”

“... See how long I can go without touching myself.”

“And?”

“Almost the whole shift.”

“Shame,” Snow’s voice is soft as he leans forward, taking initiative and pulling at Ziggy’s briefs, peeking past the waistband and giving another whistle, “you’re wet.”

“Thanks, captain obvious,” Ziggy grunts, trying to gain some control back, though he’s at the mercy of Snow right now, who is merely looking and not touching, and desperately, desperately, Ziggy needs that touch right now. Snow just tutts at his words, a finger just reaching out to swipe along Ziggy, eyes intently on him as his cock twitches, more precum dribbling from his tip. Ziggy just bites on his knuckles, trying not to lose it right then and there. Snow seems more preoccupied with touching him at the moment, shifting closer in his seat, leaning forward and dragging his fingers along Ziggy again before they find the vibe, applying pressure to Ziggy with it. The brunet gasps above him, thighs closing and squeezing around Snow's hand before he relaxes, hand moving from his mouth to his face, trying to hide behind it, sunglasses threatening to drop off his nose.

"You wanna cum for me, Ziggy?"

Ziggy whimpers at the words, giving a nod. "O-Oh, yes, sure, s-sir…"

Snow hums an appreciative noise and he swipes at Ziggy's tip with a couple of fingers. They drag down his shaft next, maneuvering around the vibe as Snow just keeps the touch gentle and sweet, and Ziggy breaks, moaning out as he cums, cock twitching against Snow's fingers. His mind goes hazy as a weight settles against his chest and fingers press against his bottom lip and Ziggy happily parts his lips for them, tongue lazily sliding between Snow's fingers, purring loudly at the taste of himself.

It's distracting enough that he doesn't feel Snow's other hand rooting in his jacket until it's too late, giving a panicked squirm as the bullet is turned up to full intensity, making Ziggy give a muffled whine, hand grabbing onto Snow's wrist.

"This is mine for today," Snow hums softly, curling his fingers against Ziggy's tongue before pulling his hand back, giving him a sweet smile, tossing the controller up and down in his hand, "partner."

Ziggy's mind is blank as he slumps in his seat, watching the controller slide into the pocket of Snow's jacket, mouth open as he pants, hips giving little rolls into the intensity of the vibe against him.

"... Y-Yes, sir."

**Author's Note:**

> for a friend who i wub very much
> 
> normansbones @ twitter


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